


Memory Blank

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 17:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13506549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Prompt: While on a case about disappearing cows Scully forgot her PJs. She asks Mulder to borrow her his T-Shirt over night but he forgot his stuff too





	Memory Blank

He finds a toothbrush in a zip up pocket, a pair of clean, if a little worn, boxers in another but there is no sign of his Knicks tee-shirt and the wash bag he usually stows in the bottom of his case. He’s still swearing when he opens the door to Scully.

“Mulder,” she says, smiling like she does when she’s trying to be all business still. “I seem to have forgotten my wash bag. I mean, I remember packing it but…” She’s looking at her feet now and her hair has fallen around her face.

“Come in,” he says, ushering her out of the glaring neon of the passageway. “Me too. I was sure I put it in its usual spot, but there’s nothing. Just this,” he says, holding up the toothbrush, bristles askew.

She offers him a sympathetic smile that disguises her faint disgust at the toothbrush. “Maybe this is the X-File, Mulder.” Her hands are linked in front of her and she’s still wearing her suit and winter coat. He’s always struck by her petiteness when she’s simply Dana. Agent Scully and Doctor Scully are mammoth in comparison.

“Well, there are still a dozen missing cows out there,” he says, patting the bed for her to sit down. The mattress sinks and she rolls slightly closer, thigh-close. Her coat is wedged between them but he can see the slope of her leg under pants. He tries to shake off the buzz of strange thoughts whirling around his mind. They’re here on a case. An X-File. Missing animals. Strange odours in the air.

“Technically, if they’re missing they can’t be out there,” she replies, using air quotes. When she lifts her arms, her breasts move under her blouse. “If they were simply out there we’d have found something more than a bunch of strange, possibly high, farmers and empty fields.”

“Are you suggesting that the local paint manufacturing company is emitting noxious fumes into the atmosphere and that the good folk of Memory Blank, Tennessee are suffering from delusions? That they don’t even have cows in their fields? After all, this is sheep country and there were plenty of those.”

She blinks. “Well, that’s quite a leap, Fox. But I think you might just have solved the case.”

Fox? She called him Fox. He rubbed his chin. Today, it didn’t bother him.

“Maybe we’ll be back in Washington by tomorrow after all.”

His phone rings. The sheriff tells him that the farmers have withdrawn their complaints. He nods and smiles vaguely.

“The case is closed,” he says to her. “We’ll never know the end of this story, Dana.”

She lets out a fluttery giggle at his use of her name. There’s something mesmerising about the rise and fall of her chest, that he hasn’t noticed before. In fact, he’s noticing more and more about Dana Scully. The mole she hides under her makeup, the fact that she has a collection of simple but beautiful earrings that sit so perfectly in her lobes, the way her hair crinkles around her hair line, that thing she does with her lips.

“That’s a shame. This town might be a little kooky but there’s something quite sensual about it.” She flops back and looks up at him, smiling. “Don’t you think?”

“So what are you going to wear to bed, Dana?” It’s out before he can rein it in and there should be an apology and a retraction, or at least a blush, but instead he’s just staring at her mouth whilst she appears to be saying, “You.”

At some point, later in the night, he will wake up and recall in vivid detail the way Scully’s breath caught in her throat when she came and the way her hand massaged his scalp when he did. But for now, he’s just going with the flow as she shucks off her coat and boots and he’s ripping his shirt off his head and unbuckling his belt.

“Why are we doing this? Is it the cows?” she’s mixing up all her messages but he doesn’t care. She’s kneeling on the bed and reaching into his boxers. He’s unhooking her bra and watching her breasts bob in the cool air, nipples contracting to taut peaks that he can’t wait to taste.

“The cows are out there, Scully,” he says, vaguely aware that there’s a joke in there somewhere.

“But we’re in here?” she answers, straddling him. “Fucking?”

He’s never heard her curse but it gets him harder than a rock in an instant and she’s moaning as she slips down, inch by inch. She’s bouncing up and down, her head rocking back so he can see her throat, pearly and kissable.

“Oh god, Mulder. Why haven’t we done this before?”

Thrusting up to meet her every move, he’s not sure what to say, other than, “because we’ve only been partners for a few weeks and because we are partners?”

Suddenly, she’s under him and he’s rolling inside her and she’s honey and gold and wonder. His head is misted, his throat is dry, his limbs are heavy, but heaven is rushing towards him and he’s going to dive in head first. She holds her breath, her hands scrabble at his ass, nails digging in, her knees widen and then she’s panting and crying out and whispering his name in his ear, encouraging him. He explodes.

The morning dawns crisp. He’s cold under the sheets. Naked. Strange that he doesn’t usually sleep without a tee. He hobbles to the bathroom, stretches, looks at his neck. Is that a…? No. He must have nicked himself shaving. He packs. There in the bottom of his case is his overnight bag, a pair of boxers, socks, and his Knicks tee-shirt.

Scully knocks and comes in to his room. “I must have been so tired last night that I didn’t even wear my Knicks shirt, Scully.” He holds it up over his bare chest. She blushes and turns around so he can finish dressing. “Sleep well?”

“I don’t remember much about it, but I feel pretty refreshed.”

They close the door to his room, settle the bill and sit in silence on the way to the airport. The sign on the road out of town says Thank You For Coming. Don’t You Forget Us, Y’All.


End file.
